by Tori Weinstein
Israel Education Center Lewis Summer Intern
There is a certain vibe that exists solely in
Israel. It’s warm, comforting, and welcoming. I have heard people talk about
Israel this way my whole life, but I didn’t understand it until I was finally
there, able to see it and feel it for myself. You see the beaming sun reflect
off the lime-stoned streets of Jerusalem on Shabbat afternoon, the freshly
baked challah and rugelach from local markets; you see 4,500 square miles worth
of beautiful desert sand in the Negev – you see it all. You see smiles on people’s
faces, joy in their eyes, and love in their words.
As much as I looked like a tourist on
Birthright with my three liters of water, an “Illini” hat on my head, and a hamsa
necklace purchased on Ben Yehuda street, I could tell the local Israelis still
wanted me here. They wanted me to experience all of Israel too
and fall in love with her the way they had. The seven Israelis on our trip
made me feel like I belonged. I came back from my trip inspired, so
thrilled to be spending my summer interning at the Israel Education Center as a
Lewis Summer Intern.
It was an ordinary summer day for me when I
heard about the kidnapping of Gilad, Naftali, and Eyal. I was sitting at my
desk checking my email when my Facebook newsfeed, usually filled with
meaningless statuses, suddenly was overrun with posts linking to news articles
about the boys. It’s hard to believe how quickly war can break out, how fast
animosity can escalate to true hatred and violence. It’s hard to believe I was
just in Israel on an amazing Taglit-Birthright Israel experience, unaware that the
very streets I had just walked on would become dangerous territory in just two short months.
A whole month after the teens were kidnapped
and murdered, I sit at my desk listening to the sirens go off every few minutes
from the Red
Alert: Israel app on my phone and I can’t help but picture myself
in Israel at this very moment. The app
sounds a distinct alarm that mimics the emergency sirens going off throughout
Israel when a missile is on its way. This app brings Israeli supporters
together from all over the world; it makes you feel as close to Israel as
possible, to share in the fear experienced by Israeli citizens every day,
without experiencing the actual danger faced by them.
I first feel
immense sadness when I hear this alarm on my phone. I think about my friends
spending their summers in Israel on a Hasbarah Fellowship or as a camp
counselor at Kefiada with the Partnership Region of Kiryat Gat, Lachish
and Shafir. I think of my dad, who is leading a
Taglit-Birthright Israel trip right now. I think about my best friend Roye, one
of the Israeli soldiers I met on my trip who is a combat soldier fighting in
Gaza right now. I also think about the other six Israeli soldiers who were on
my bus.
Whenever I hear
my alarm go off on my phone, I immediately pray for the protection and safety
of everyone under attack. Within 15 seconds, the sirens are blaring followed
by a boom. I can’t imagine what it
would be like to live in a country where you could find yourself in mortal
danger in need of immediate shelter within seconds.
People
here have adapted to a way of life that seems almost incomprehensible to those
living in other parts of the world. They’ve swapped their leather loafers for
sneakers and day camps and work days for bomb shelters; those sharing shelters
have learned to sleep in their clothes, and long, warm showers turn into short
cold ones. Worry and fear has become as mundane as brushing your teeth.
My dad
likes to refer to this whole conflict as “mowing the lawn.” We are hoping that
these occasional large-scale operations like Operation Protective Edge or
Operation Pillar of Defense back in 2012 have a temporary effect to create
periods of quiet along the Gaza border. However, just as freshly cut grass
doesn’t last forever, I don’t expect quiet in the Middle East to last forever
either.
Gilad, Naftali, and Eyal were kids my age,
kids I could relate to. Being an innocent civilian living in Israel during this
horrendous time, however, is something that I can’t relate to. As I vaguely
tell my 10-year-old brother about the situation going on in Israel, he tries to
relate to the innocent children living in terror. He confesses,
“Truly,
I feel sad for all the residents and army workers living in Israel, especially the
kids. I’m confused why there has to be bombs and wars in Israel. It’s not very
difficult to throw away your missiles and live in a peaceful world. Why can’t
there be peace?”
Amen brother.
